Rescue
by Tamzi
Summary: The survivors of Oceanic flight 815 have finally been found and rescued. They're going home. Maybe though, not everyone wants to be rescued.


Disclaimer: I do not own Lost, never have and never will. Sadly.

The helicopters whirred overhead trying to land on the beach. They were rescued, finally. They were going home, the search had never stopped. As they rushed to tell anyone who didn't know the news, they remembered the nights they fell asleep thinking they'd been abandoned, forgotten. Then suddenly there were helicopters and boats. They were saved. Heading home, back to civilisation. They'd never be able to tell anyone about this island and what had happened. It would always be too hard to explain. The hatches, the polar bears, the monster, the others. That would always stay in their minds, they'd never forget, but they'd never tell either. It wasn't like anyone would believe them. As they gathered up their stuff they imagined what it would be like to be reunited with their families and friends. Would everything be the same? Probably not. It wasn't just the world outside that had changed, they'd changed. Matured, learnt, been force to grow. They'd come to this island different, younger and naive and they were leaving older and wiser. No one would understand the changes probably. Drug addict to father. Spoilt girl to caring woman. Torturer to lover. Every single person who had survived the crash was not the same as before. They didn't want to be. The island may have been a hell but just maybe it was their saviour as well.

She sat near the edge of the jungle watching everyone rejoice at heading home. Leaving. Home, what was that? She didn't have a home, not anymore. Maybe the island was her home. By next week a small room with grey walls would be her home. That's not what she wanted, but there was nothing she could do. She couldn't keep on running. She couldn't keep on being chased. She was surprised they hadn't come for her yet. She knew they would though, they were waiting. They were good at that. Waiting. She was tired of waiting though, tired of running. She looked at the glass in her hand, the clear liquid inside. The liquid that could end it all. She had to, for her own good. This was her choice. She could end it now or let them do it. She knew she'd be lucky if she escaped death row. This way no one would be hurt. He wouldn't be hurt. She didn't want any of them to wake up months from now to find it front-page news, her execution. She didn't want them to sit and read the story remembering the girl on the island. This way she would slip away. Avoid their pain. She looked at the people on the beach one last time before she closed her eyes and imagined his face, the love in his eyes, as she drank the liquid. She felt it burn her throat, felt the poison flow through her veins. She wanted to scream but she couldn't let herself. She bit down on her lip to prevent the screams as the blood mixed with the acidic taste. She could feel the tears trickling down her cheeks, the salty taste hitting her mouth. This was for the best she remembered. She lay down and slowly slipped away, his face in her mind the entire time. The love of her life.

He ran back up the beach looking for her, to tell her they were waiting. They'd known this day would come, always known, but now it was here it seemed too real. When they curled up in his tent at night they'd sometimes discuss it as his arms wrapped around her. Make up crazy stories about how they'd run, run together. That was just dreams though, imagination, this was reality. He wanted to hold her one last time, kiss her one last time, and tell her she was beautiful one last time, before they took her. They had guns, handcuffs, all ready to take her away. He wandered into the jungle looking for her. That's when he saw her, lying there. Her eyes were open and she was smiling. Just a small smile, like she'd been fighting the pain. He ran over to her and scooped her up in his arms. Felt for a pulse but there was none. Her chest wasn't rising and she didn't blink once. She was dead. He saw the small glass lying next to her and he knew what she'd done. Taken her own life. Not able to face prison. He tried to hold back the tears, but they came anyway, running down his cheeks and falling onto her face. She couldn't be gone, no. But she was gone, gone forever. He slowly closed her eyes and kissed each of her eyelids, crying as he did so. He'd loved her so much and now he'd lost her. He brushed her hair back off her face and carried her towards the beach.

"Night Freckles."

A/N: This is my first Lost fanfiction and I hope you liked it. I just had an urge to write something to do with Lost. Hopefully you can figure out who the couple were in this. I was trying to write it without mentioning any names. I was going to put how others were feeling about rescue, maybe I'll write another rescue fic someday. Anyway thanks for reading.

P.S. To add, I love Kate and thinks she is a fab character. She just seemed to fit the role right.


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